


Perhaps

by Fired_Feathers_of_a_Phoenix



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Freeform, Gay, Grief, Hope, Link is a hero and doesn't even realize it, Link is a manchild, Link is really gay, LinkxSheik, M/M, Navi needs a nap, Ocarina of Time, Sheik has feelings, Sheik is a male, Sheik is not Zelda, Sheikah, Shink, Shink- freeform, but he doesn't know it, friendship if you squint, just a nice talk, set sometime after the fire temple, sheikxlink - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 08:38:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16171523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fired_Feathers_of_a_Phoenix/pseuds/Fired_Feathers_of_a_Phoenix
Summary: “I am a man, you realize that, right?”“Still pretty.”“How open minded.”Sheik has set his vows as her Shadow to become the Chosen's Guide and win this war, but there's a blue-eyed man child who makes it very hard to have faith in this entire cause. Or perhaps this Hero gives Sheik the very faith he forgot he needed.





	Perhaps

I’m woken by a rough hand on my shoulder, shaking me. “Sheik?” A voice asks. For a moment, it’s unfamiliar, so I reach instinctively to the sheath on my leg and draw a dagger. My leg kicks at the body above me, and I’m surprised the body is sturdy enough to take the blow. My arm lifts to take a stab at the stranger’s eye. It’s late. Thunder is rumbling in the darkness outside of the cave I have taken refuge in.

“Sheik! Stop, it’s me!” A strong, calloused hand takes my wrist and forces me down. My body is panicking, but I force myself to focus my eyes, blurry from sleep and light deprivation. There’s a strong build in front of me, and I don’t recognize it.

And then the lightning flashes. For a moment I see platinum hair, bright, cornflower blue eyes that even rival that of Zelda’s. A green tunic, and a pommel rising just from behind his shoulder, that could only belong to the Master Sword. The light is gone, then, but my body relaxes.

“Hero,” I say, not as a question, but a statement. The tension leaves the Hero’s body and he lets me go. I put the dagger back into my sheath and sit up. “My apologies, Hero. I did not realize it was you.”

I hear a chuckle, and he sits back. “It’s okay. I kind of snuck up on you anyway while you were sleeping. Navi and I got caught in the rain so we thought we would take a break… I didn’t think we would run into you, though!” A little ball of light - that could only be a Kokiri fairy due to its blue hue - flies out from under Link’s cap.

“Hi, Sheik!” The shrill voices cries happily. “What are you doing here? I thought you would be with the Princess Zelda!” Her sudden light is blinding but now I can kind of make the Hero out. He’s soaking wet.

“I was,” I lie, and sit up completely. I take my blanket and hand it to him. “Take this, Hero. You should put on a different pair of clothes; you will freeze.” I stand and walk to the fire pit, kneeling. I snap my fingers and ignite the logs I’d left there earlier. I was too tired to start a fire when I’d first arrived here. The fire crackles and grows softly. “We can dry your clothes above the fire.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The Hero is quiet, but I hear him shuffling, the sheath of his blade dropping, and I assume he begins to undress. I tend to the fire in the meantime, still groggy from sleep. The Hero comes first, however, before self-care. He is Hyrule’s last hope.

A moment later Link rejoins me, wearing a dark red tunic that was meant for the Fire Temple, deep within Death Mountain. His usual green garb is wet and soaked in his hands, wrinkled. His boots are gone. “Uh, here,” he says, and I take the clothes politely from him and stand. I wring the water from the fabric and then lie the clothes over the fire, suspended by Sheikah magic. 

I look to the Hero, “Have you eaten?”

“Er, yeah, a couple of hours ago. I stopped by the Lon Lon Ranch and Malon made me some Cukoo Eggs and some milk. She also gave me some roots and berries – um, here, if you want some,” he holds out a small pouch probably intended for food and I eye it for a moment. No, it is the Hero’s rations. He may need it later. I shake my head.

“I am alright.”

“Oh. Well, what are you doing sleeping out here? I just ran into some of Ganondorf’s soldiers not far from here. It could be dangerous… I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” Navi flutters gently into my bedroll as he said this, probably exhausted from the journey. Faeries don’t normally sleep, I know, but they do grow weary. 

I take a seat by the fire and finally remind myself to check to make sure my cowl is on. When I am certain it is, I look to the Hero. “I am not easily detected. I cast a protection spell on myself to be alerted when dark forces are near. Do not worry about me… You are on your way to the Water Temple, I hope?” 

He is wringing out the water in his cap. “Huh? Oh, yeah, I just have to figure out how to get to it. Navi and I think it’s in the Lakebed…”

“Perhaps the Zora might have an idea,” I offer. My eyes are tired so I close them, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. “I am not sure myself how to get to it.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” It is not quite a lie. But its not quite the truth.

The Hero sits back, “Huh. And here I thought you were always a step ahead of me… If you’re tired you can go back to sleep, Sheik.”

“No, Hero, I am just well-“ I am cut off by said Hero.

“No, Sheik, sleep. Even Guides need rest too, right?”

I watch him for a moment. I don’t realize there are bags under my cranky eyes and that my brow is twitching impatiently. “So do Heroes,” I point out.

When I expect him to get impatient like me, he grins instead. “Then let’s sleep.” That’s a bad idea. If anyone snuck up on us, I would be fine if it was only me. But I cannot risk the Hero’s safety. He is the only one who can wield the Blade of Evil’s Bane. He is the only one who can restore the power to the Sages, the Triforce…. He is the only one who can slay Ganondorf.

“Hero-“ I start.

“No, really.”

“No, not really, you must-“

“No, Sheik!” He suddenly shouts, shocking my eyes open. “You must! I know you work a lot; I don’t know what you do but I know you’re always really tired but even so you always go out of your way for me. Besides Navi, you’ve been my only friend since I’ve woken up who isn’t doomed to an eternity in the Sacred Realm! So… please…” his face falls and I can see his eyes are wet with tears. “Please, just let me do this one thing for you.”

He looks like a kicked puppy. I probably look like a feral wildcat. Cornflower stares intently into camellia for long moments we say nothing. Finally, I resign, closing my eyes and looking away. “Very well.”

Now the Hero looks like his ten year old self, chipper and happy with a gleam in his eye. The red tunic really does bring out the blue in his eyes. He settles himself closer to the fire, holding his hands out, a pleased smile on his lips. I sigh. It seems the Goddesses planned for the argument to end in the Hero’s favor, and… I suppose I shouldn’t resist that much. I am weary from travel. There’s no reason for both of us to be tired. Besides, the rain should mask the fire’s smoke, as well as deter enemies from braving the terrain. On a good day, climbing Death Mountain is no easy task. Imagine my surprise to encounter anyone, much less a Hero. A Hero who should be weary from defeating a blood-thirsty Volgavia. I should know better, though. He is the Hero of Time. 

The thought relaxes me. I feel my eyes droop as I lie against my knees. I feel the Hero’s eyes on me. Feeling small, I pull my shoulders closer to me, probably looking quite like a Cuukoo before it hatches. The thunder rolls in the distance and I hold my breath, eyes closed.

Rain had never been something I’ve been quite accustomed to. Growing up in the desert, far beyond even where the Gerudo dare to walk, water was rare and fleeting. I was raised to know that by law, water should be preserved. Din was a goddess of survival and power, not one of mercy. The deserts she crafted in her passion could only be a trial for her followers. For creatures such as myself. 

When I came to Hyrule on the back of a horse four heads taller than me, I realized just how merciless Din was. Her Sisters touched the land of Hyrule with a benevolence I never quite experienced. The air itself was full and the magic pulsed life into the land through mighty veins. Farore created a land suitable for Hylians who were worth her love and care. Every herb and animal that raised from this land, even, had purpose and life.

It makes me crave the desert. Its vast expanse of nothingness left me to my simple thoughts of living through the tundra nights. The whistling winds were comforting back then. Now Hyrule roars in agony with the rain. Its life is celebrated and mourned with each crack of lightning and each tremor of the earth. How I miss the easing sands…

“Hey, Sheik,” the Hero whispers. My eyes flicker open and I cannot recall closing them. I roll my shoulders back and lift my head. 

“Nn?” I ask between my teeth.

The Hero looks unsure. Perhaps embarrassed. He has the blanket I offered him around his shoulders. “You look a little… er,” he stops, shifting his gaze from myself to the ground and then back to me. “I’m, uh, a little cold.” I raise a blonde brow at him but sit up. 

“I think I have some spicy peppers in my pack, Hero. Those should keep your body temperature warm.” I’m not much of a chef, but I do have my preferences. I begin to pick up my body despite its protests, but a hand grabs my wrist. Jolted, I instinctively retract, but the Hero’s grip is strong. 

“No, no,” he pulls me back, and I give in, sitting back down. “I just. Could we just, um…” His cheeks burn pink. He looks so much like a child rather than just moments ago, and I remember once more that he is only a child. I resign myself. I know the Hero craves contact. 

I don’t care for it much, myself, but of course. The Hero comes first. I adjust myself to sit against him, my thigh pressing against his. I fold my knees back into my chest and let myself lean against him. “If you wish.” I close my eyes again, aware how the Hero’s body relaxes, and how mine becomes tense. 

“You… don’t have to,” he says, softly. 

I don’t speak; I merely hum in response. Although contact is not my favorite pastime, and I don’t care for it very much, I’m far too tired to argue. Besides, sitting close to him won’t kill me. And it won’t push those boundaries that Zelda was adamant about. 

That thought is quickly gone, though. Perhaps I’m not always right as I might think. I jolt softly when two large, burly arms wrap themselves around me. The Hero’s nose is in my hair and he inhales deeply, his hug soon crushing me. It’s warm, and close, and so very suffocating. I can smell his sweat, the deep stench of Death Mountain’s smoke, and suddenly I’m wide awake. I expect this hug to end a lot sooner than it should.

But, after a long time of a very still, very strong-armed hug, I realize that once again, I am wrong.

What is a polite way to tell the Hero of the Hyrule to get the hell off?  
“Hero, I…”

“I’m sorry,” he speaks, with courage I’ve never had. “It’s just, its been a long time since I’ve hugged someone. And I had to say goodbye to Darunia. And Saria… and, I just,” his voice breaks and I swallow the annoyance in my throat. “I’m sorry. I can tell you don’t like hugs. I won’t hug you again.” He pulls away from me, sniveling. Snot runs down his nose, and big whelps of tears bulge down his face. He then proceeds to wipe the dirt and grime and snot on his face onto his sleeve. I stare, almost in disbelief.

The first thing I described him as, when I first saw him, was a Messenger of the Gods. Perhaps even, a God of War. But the large, muscle-built man in front of me? It’s merely a shell. And inside of it, is an emotionally traumatized child.

I lose faith in the Hero of Hyrule.

However, I’ve made my vows, and I don’t intend to give up just yet. I sigh. “It is… alright. I don’t mi-“

“But you do. So stop lying.” He spits and proceeds to blow his nose. Into his sleeve. I’m not sure how much I cringe, but its visible. 

I shake my hand and reach for my handkerchief and hand it to him. I hold my voice to keep it stern. “First of all, if you’re going to be rude, at least be a gentleman about it. And for Goddess’ sake, stop using your sleeve. You’re a Hero; you’re not an animal.” He sniffles and gives my handkerchief a cold stare, before taking it, softly. “Secondly,” I say, once he’s taken it. “That’s fair. I… am not a fan of physical contact.” I don’t give my reasons, because I don’t feel like I need to. “But I do understand you need it, and I will not withhold something as simple as a hug from you if you need it. You just single-handedly killed a dragon that could not even be killed by a Goron. Whom, I am sure I don’t need to remind you, are some of the strongest creatures to ever walk Hyrule. The hug is the least of things you deserve for something like that.”

Link doesn’t speak for a long moment. Navi’s light flickers in and out, from where she sleeps in Link’s cap. I push some of my hair out of my eyes and turn my body to face him. “You’ve faced a tremendous loss, and I understand that you must be feeling lonely. Grief… it is the hardest thing you will face in the challenges that lie ahead.” I look up at him. His eyes are trained on his lap, his hands crumpling up my handkerchief, looking on the verge of tears. I don’t expect him to speak, although, I’m not sure what else to say, short of ‘suck it up,’ and I don’t think that’s even a justified sentiment. 

My eyes find themselves to my own hands. I must say something more. Ending this on a note of grief, it doesn’t feel… right. I reach over and place one of my wrapped hands over his own. I’m sure the gauze on my palms chafes against his skin. I grasp his knuckles. “Grief,” I start, again, unsure. “It is a cruel kind of pain. I, too, wish for the days before this war.” The word snaps from my throat. “And losing people you have loved, craving for their touch, it is a pain that not even the Goddesses could quell. I… understand, Hero.” I let go of his hand and try not to look at his eyes. I look to the cave floor, ashamed. 

I shouldn’t speak of myself. My grief, my pain, my sorrow, it is nothing. My vows to be Her Shadow. I am nothing but a shadow, and shadows, they don’t feel. They simply follow. But for some foolhardy reason, being in the Hero’s presence, it pushes my heart in ways I cannot explain. 

“I’m sorry, Sheik,” comes the Hero’s strained voice.

I shake my head. “There is nothing to apologize for, Hero.” He opens his mouth, but my camellia eyes lift to meet his cornflower ones and it hushes any kind of retort. “You do not owe me any explanation. And you mustn’t feel as if you should simply forget about your friends. Daruina, Saria… the reason grief hurts so, is because these people who once gave you love are not able to anymore. But that love does not fade.” I reach and draw a small symbol in the cave floor, pushing aside dirt. “The Sheikah have a word for this. It is called Hereth. It is a love that still sings from the grave. When you feel happy, or when you see something… remarkably beautiful,” I smile, softly, “Remember their love. That is what makes things so beautiful, and so worth fighting for.”

The thunder rumbles and for the first time that night I don’t shudder at the sound. I think of the hills of my homeland. And the song from my mother’s lyre. Those hills still sing.  
The Hero’s strong sniffle brings me back into the dark cave. I sigh, taking the handkerchief from him. “Honestly. What would they say now if they saw you like this? All covered in tears.” I wipe the tears from his eyes. And then I wipe his nose, surprised when I’m not degraded by the action. 

The Hero laughs. “Daruina would probably shout something like, ‘No tears tonight, brother! We dance!’” He lowers his voice to sound gruffer than he usually does. I chuckle alongside him.

“I never met him, but I’ve heard of him. He sounded like an excellent leader and friend.” I fold the handkerchief and tuck it away. I’ll wash it later, I suppose. 

“He was,” Link speaks, and for the first time tonight, he sounds like his usual self. My shoulders relax at the notion. “When I was little he’d teach me how to climb the mountain. And to roll like a Goron! Which kind of hurts but only if you put too much oomph into it.” He giggles, but his smile slowly fades, only to return with a sweet bitter taste. “…Thanks, Sheik. I really needed to hear that.”

“Any time, Hero,” I remark. 

“You always have this very fancy way of talking, by the way.”

I raise my brow, turning myself so we’re shoulder to shoulder once again. This time the Hero doesn’t put his arm around me. “Oh? Is it my accent?” I wonder. Many Hylians have scrunched their faces at me when I first speak, and the Hero had been no exception. (Of course, our meeting was quite confusing that in of itself, so I don’t quite blame him.)  
“Huh? Oh, no, not that. I like your accent. But sometimes you talk like, you’re describing stuff?” He notes. 

“Poetic, I think you mean?” I inquire.

He holds his hands out to the fire. “Uh… yeah I think that’s the word.” I remember then that the Hero was raised by the Kokiri, and that, well, he doesn’t know how to read well. I tried to teach him phrases here and there before, but it only seemed to irritate him, so I’d stopped, long before he had even reached the Forest Temple. Hylian isn’t my first language anyway, so perhaps I’d been a little too over-complicated about the process. 

I hum. “Well, if you would prefer I speak more simply, I-“

“No, no!” his sudden interjection makes me jump. “Ah, sorry. I just, I like listening to you talk, is all. Your words are pretty. And they make a lot of sense. Even when they don’t. It’s kinda hard to explain. But you know what I mean?”

“I… think I do.”

He beams. The fire reflects in his irises and suddenly its hard to talk, although, I’m not quite sure why. I avert my eyes to stare at the fire. “Thank you,” I say.

“No problem… do all Sheikah talk like that? Impa didn’t.” He stands. “Stretching out my legs,” he explains.

“Ah. Well, not necessarily. Impa-ka had been raised in Hyrule unlike myself. From what I’ve gathered, it seems she has trained with the Hylian Royal Militia, so her way of speaking might be more direct. Usually, however, the Sheikahn language… well, each word seems to have a larger meaning, I suppose, is the easiest way to put it.” I shrug and watch as he takes his clothes from over the fire. I close my eyes and let him change in peace. “It’s a bit of a challenge, if you haven’t been raised by native speakers.”

“So, you were raised by Sheikah?”

I almost reply before I realize my mistake- I shouldn’t have not spoken about myself so casually. The Princess had been very dismissive about voicing myself. I was simply to lead him to the Temples, but I’ve been… not following her instructions as closely as she might have liked. 

“I… yes.” I speak. I’ve already pushed myself into a corner with this, and if I’d said no, he would only push with more questions. I must be vague. 

“Oh! That makes sense. Impa said that the Sheikah don’t live here anymore.”

“Most don’t, no,” I reply. 

“Why is that?” He wonders, and I feel him sit beside me again. I open my eyes. He’s changed once again, back into his usual green. 

I pause. “The Sheikah simply do not hail from Hyrule. From what I’ve heard, there had been a colony started here some time back, perhaps it had grown… However, the numbers in Hyrule dwindled in the last war. Impa-ka doesn’t speak much of it.” It is understandable. I note not to mention the genocide of my people in this country. My grandfather fled Hyrule before the massacre that the Royal family had ordered.

It’s not quite right to lie to the Hero, but I don’t believe this is the time to speak about that. The enemy is Ganondorf. Princess Zelda may not be my favorite person, per se, but she is the rightful ruler of the Sheikah, and of Hyrule. She is very much the lesser of two evils, and I would rather fight for her than I would fight for that pig. 

“Oh. That sucks. I think the Sheikah are pretty.”

My eyes flicker and I’m caught off guard. “I… what?”

He doesn’t seem to hold any shame for the compliment. “I think the Sheikah are pretty! I’ve only met you and Impa, but Impa was really unique and you have… really pretty eyes.” His eyes lock into mine, and the fire reflects against his skin, or, is simply glowing? It’s hard for me to tear my eyes away from his sincere smile. I realize I’m blushing far later than I should have; I’m suddenly thankful for the cowl, though it seems to not help much.

He beams, tear-lines still on his cheeks from earlier, and continues, “Aw, you’re all red!”

“I’m not-“ I start to defend myself. “I’m not pretty.” 

“You totally are! You’ve got long eyelashes, and your hair,” he reaches for my hair and all I can do is look dumbly as he plays with it. “It’s really long, like Zelda’s!”

I chuckle. Normally I’d slap anyone who tried to touch my hair, but I gently push his hand away, respectively. “I am a man, you realize that, right?”

“Still pretty.” 

“How open minded.”

Link shrugs. “I’d like to meet the Sheikah outside of Hyrule. After, you know, all of this,” he gestures to nothing.

“Perhaps you can. We’re a quiet people, but there are many tribes outside the badlands of Termina.” 

“Will you take me?”

I pause. Link is looking at me with big eyes. He almost looks uncertain, but then he gives me that smile, and despite my vows, despite how much I should hate Hylians, how I detest touch and companionship, how I will die at this end of this war… the sudden vision of traveling the desert with this inexperienced, courageous, and kind Hero… It filters through my mind’s eye and I don’t say anything for what feels like a long time. 

Perhaps in another time. Perhaps if I should outlive this war. Perhaps if Zelda would allow it. Perhaps if the Hero still wishes my company when this is over. 

“Perhaps.”

Link grins, and I smile, too. Perhaps I have some hope for my future, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something I wrote up- I might push to continue this. It was fun to write even if its not my best work. I hope you all enjoy, let me know what you all thought! Kudos is appreciated <3


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